


Of one sided crushes...

by Xobit



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-27
Updated: 2012-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-17 03:49:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xobit/pseuds/Xobit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Optronix is a sexy, sexy little tease... and he doesn't even know it this time</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of one sided crushes...

The four newly arrived ‘on loan’ officers were wildly different. The quiet, dignified and highly disciplined Praxian that went by the slightly amusing designation Prowl and his Kalisian counterpart with his high humor and lilting accent and the swinging designation of Jazz. The fire colored and fire tempered Helixian Rodimus… and lastly the quiet, unassuming Iaconian Optronix. 

They flowed into the life of the Altihex law enforcement station with little to no effort. For all their differences they seemed remarkably well adjusted, both to each other and to the new place and the new face plates. Of course it was a big place, the city was a big city and yet…

* * *

“Who was that,” Ultra Magnus looked after the polite officer that had just handed him a pile of reports as diffidently as an indentured servant. He was not used to that level of… he did not even know what to call it!

“Who was who?” his secretary looked up, the minibot as gruff and loud as his red plating promised. 

“That young enforcer that handed me the reports,” Cliffjumper leaned to the side to look down the hallway and then shrugged. 

“That’s the Iaconian, quite sort, can’t rightly remember his real designation right now, and most just call him ‘Iacon’,” the red minibot returned his gaze to his chief and then focused on the pile of reports. 

“You want me to take those?” 

“What? No, no it is fine, these are some I need to take care of anyway,” Ultra Magnus shook off his paralysis and walked into his office, thoughts still on the long limbed Iaconian youth. Well, he could not be _that_ young if he was working as an officer.

* * *

“Optronix?” the young mech looked up, a smile on his dermas. It dwindled into a momentary look of confusion when he realized who was standing in his office.

“Sir,” he got up, clearly uneasy and tried to figure out how to greet his esteemed guest properly. 

“At ease, officer, I…” and here Ultra Magnus halted with his own uncertain unease. He had no true reason to be here, other than a wish to meet the mech again. “I merely wished to see how the new… allies of the force are doing and was directed here,” that was not entirely untrue. 

“I understand you are the highest ranking of our four new officers?” inexplicably the young mech flushed hot at that. 

“I… uh, yes, technically I hold the highest enforcer rank, but Prowl is a tactical specialist so…” flustered, gorgeous… and he really should not be thinking such thoughts. But it was hard not to, he had not seen a mech with full Iaconian coding in ages, had forgotten their fine builds and how… well, how they made him feel. 

He saw attractive mechs often enough, but Iacon was so highly isolated that you just did not see the full codes unless you went there or happened to be where you could meet a diplomatic delegation. He had happened to have tried both.

They were so small, and yet so strongly builds… not precisely minibots but compared to his Althihexian bulk they might as well be. 

And he was staring creepily at the flushing mech. 

“Ah I see, in Altihex you are still considered the leader of a team even though you have yet to chose a specialization,” true and possibly saving him since he could have been slightly stunned at the difference. 

“Oh… well, uh, sir…” Optronix seemed, if possible, even more flustered, moving datapads around in seemingly random manner as if needing an excuse to not look at his chief. 

“T-the team is doing great, sir, we work well together… and um, well we’ve got a crimes solved percent of ninety-seven. Of course we are mostly on, you know, low level cases but…” the blue helmet tilted back slowly, as if its owner was unwilling to look him in the optics. 

A silver glossa peeked out to wet pale dermas. 

Ultra Magnus heard himself crash frontally into that thing called love… well, at least a hot, heavy and immediate desire to do unspeakable things to the small Iaconian officer.

* * *

Unfortunately law enforcement chiefs had to be honorable and not go around lusting after subordinates they only had on loan. Well, to be honest, he was not supposed to lust after any of his subordinates…

It was rather hard not to lust over the Iaconian though. Those perfectly shaped long legs, the equally perfect aft that would fit just _so_ in his hands. Those pouty dermas that Optronix’s had a trice cursed habit of either wetting with his glossa tip of chewing on, depending on his moods. 

He had dreams about finding out if the little audio finials were as sensitive as they looked to be. If the quiet mech was as wild in the berth as everyone said quiet mechs were… 

There was just no helping it and Ultra Magnus resigned himself to it. Every time he had to interact with the young officer he got new wank material. There was just something about the way he was so damn proper that made him want to get him into the exact opposite state. 

When he stood and spoke oh so proper he wanted so badly to see the pouty dermas wrapped around his spike. When he fumbled with a stack of datapads he wanted to see those slim hands clenching on handfuls of berth covering, desperately clinging while his little valve got the pounding of his life!

It was so unlike him, which caused Ultra Magnus no end of guilt. Not even in his most tender and easily aroused youthful state of being had he been… this motivated to get someone into his berth. So he did the only thing he felt he could.

He kept his distance and spent a lot of quality time alone with his hands. 

And he almost made it though all three vorn without giving himself away. Too much anyway…

* * *

“Sir… sir, you are drunk, sir,” he knew that voice! Ultra Magnus smiled dreamily and chuckled drunkenly, sliding his hand down from the shoulder he had steadied himself on, to the aft he had wanted to touch for so long. 

“Sir, really!” the strain in Optronix voice was… odd. Maybe the other had just gotten a little bit drunk too? The thought made him chuckle again; he could not imagine the proper little officer drunk. He could imagine him in many others ways but not drunk.

“Mechs with nice features have to expect a certain… attention,” but he slid his hand off the tight buttocks. Instead he took a good hold of the slim waist and pulled. 

The yelp was highly satisfying and so was his lapful of Iaconian.

“Am I that unattractive in your optics, Optronix?” he tried for a mournful tone but could not help laughing even as he nuzzled his face plates against the smaller mech’s shoulder. 

“Sir, you are very drunk and this is really not ver~muff!” it was just easier to kiss him silent. He expected a slap or something similar… he certainly did not expect the stiffening of the smaller chassis to melt into complete surrender. Nor for that sweet little mouth to open and the glossa that had teased him for so long to invite his own out to play. 

When they parted Optronix clawed at him, vents gasping after cool air, whimpering for him to ‘not stop’. 

Ultra Magnus did not stop. He did not want to, he would not have been able to had he or Optronix wanted it…

* * *

“Uh…” the processor ache was fit to kill him, but the warm chassis he was wrapped around helped a lot. He might have been drunk last dark cycle but he did remember very well what they had been up to… well, maybe not very well. 

Well enough though. 

“’uh’ izz’not varra ‘lattering…” he could feel the vibrations, and the featherlike brushes of swollen dermas, against his chest armor. 

“Hmm? ‘is for the processor ache, not for the memories,” a whine and the blue helmet was pressed closer to his armor.

“Nuuu, no’ so loud,” the whine was decidedly pronounced this time. 

“I’ll try and be quieter… but, Optronix, you need to get up and get going, or you will miss the shuttle for Iacon,” and if his tone was slightly unhappy? Well, Ultra Magnus really did not want to send him off but there were… well, it was not his choice. 

“I’ma nu goin’ home.”

“What?” he was startled enough to actually sit up despite the pain in his processor. 

“Dun’ do that!” Optronix sat up too, looking groggy, and distractingly sexily used, “I asked for a permanent transfer to Altihex, we all did, that was what I was trying to tell you last dark cycle…” he rubbed an optic and then tried to focus on the Altihexian.

“I guess… I guess that’s going to be a problem now?” Ultra Magnus could not help the smile stretching his dermas, processor ache forgotten entirely. 

“Why would that be a problem?” 

“Because… well, I mean…” there was the flustered, shy, young mech! 

“Because we fragged? Or because I want more than one dark cycle?” he saw anger flare at the first, and hurt, which died down into confusion and hope at the second part. 

“Altihex has more than one police station, I think that maybe one of the other ones could benefit from a team like yours? And then we’d have to meet rather often… I mean the experiment will have to be controlled tightly, won’t it?” he did not get a chance to say anything further, Optronix threw himself at him, knocking them both to the berth surface. 

There was not much more actual _talking_ for the rest of that orn…

**Author's Note:**

> A birthday gift for the DeviantArt artist & author PurrV


End file.
